15. Athos as a Diplomatist.
D'Artagnan retired to bed--not to sleep, but to think over all he hadheard that evening. Being naturally goodhearted, and having had once aliking for Athos, which had grown into a sincere friendship, he wasdelighted at thus meeting a man full of intelligence and moral strength,instead of a drunkard. He admitted without annoyance the continuedsuperiority of Athos over himself, devoid as he was of that jealousywhich might have saddened a less generous disposition; he was delightedalso that the high qualities of Athos appeared to promise favorably forhis mission. Nevertheless, it seemed to him that Athos was not in allrespects sincere and frank. Who was the youth he had adopted and whobore so striking a resemblance to him? What could explain Athos's havingre-entered the world and the extreme sobriety he had observed at table?The absence of Grimaud, whose name had never once been uttered by Athos,gave D'Artagnan uneasiness. It was evident either that he no longerpossessed the confidence of his friend, or that Athos was bound by someinvisible chain, or that he had been forewarned of the lieutenant'svisit.
He could not help thinking of M. Rochefort, whom he had seen in NotreDame; could De Rochefort have forestalled him with Athos? Again, themoderate fortune which Athos possessed, concealed as it was, soskillfully, seemed to show a regard for appearances and to betray alatent ambition which might be easily aroused. The clear and vigorousintellect of Athos would render him more open to conviction than a lessable man would be. He would enter into the minister's schemes with themore ardor, because his natural activity would be doubled by necessity.
Resolved to seek an explanation on all these points on the followingday, D'Artagnan, in spite of his fatigue, prepared for an attack anddetermined that it should take place after breakfast. He determined tocultivate the good-will of the youth Raoul and, either whilst fencingwith him or when out shooting, to extract from his simplicity someinformation which would connect the Athos of old times with the Athos ofthe present. But D'Artagnan at the same time, being a man of extremecaution, was quite aware what injury he should do himself, if by anyindiscretion or awkwardness he should betray has manoeuvering to theexperienced eye of Athos. Besides, to tell truth, whilst D'Artagnan wasquite disposed to adopt a subtle course against the cunning of Aramis orthe vanity of Porthos, he was ashamed to equivocate with Athos,true-hearted, open Athos. It seemed to him that if Porthos and Aramisdeemed him superior to them in the arts of diplomacy, they would likehim all the better for it; but that Athos, on the contrary, woulddespise him.
"Ah! why is not Grimaud, the taciturn Grimaud, here?" thoughtD'Artagnan, "there are so many things his silence would have told me;with Grimaud silence was another form of eloquence!"
There reigned a perfect stillness in the house. D'Artagnan had heard thedoor shut and the shutters barred; the dogs became in their turn silent.At last a nightingale, lost in a thicket of shrubs, in the midst of itsmost melodious cadences had fluted low and lower into stillness andfallen asleep. Not a sound was heard in the castle, except of a footstepup and down, in the chamber above--as he supposed, the bedroom of Athos.
"He is walking about and thinking," thought D'Artagnan; "but of what? Itis impossible to know; everything else might be guessed, but not that."
At length Athos went to bed, apparently, for the noise ceased.
Silence and fatigue together overcame D'Artagnan and sleep overtook himalso. He was not, however, a good sleeper. Scarcely had dawn gilded hiswindow curtains when he sprang out of bed and opened the windows.Somebody, he perceived, was in the courtyard, moving stealthily. True tohis custom of never passing anything over that it was within his powerto know, D'Artagnan looked out of the window and perceived the close redcoat and brown hair of Raoul.
The young man was opening the door of the stable. He then, withnoiseless haste, took out the horse that he had ridden on the previousevening, saddled and bridled it himself and led the animal into thealley to the right of the kitchen-garden, opened a side door whichconducted him to a bridle road, shut it after him, and D'Artagnan sawhim pass by like a dart, bending, as he went, beneath the pendentflowery branches of maple and acacia. The road, as D'Artagnan hadobserved, was the way to Blois.
"So!" thought the Gascon "here's a young blade who has already his loveaffair, who doesn't at all agree with Athos in his hatred to the fairsex. He's not going to hunt, for he has neither dogs nor arms; he's notgoing on a message, for he goes secretly. Why does he go in secret? Ishe afraid of me or of his father? for I am sure the count is his father.By Jove! I shall know about that soon, for I shall soon speak out toAthos."
Day was now advanced; all the noises that had ceased the night beforereawakened, one after the other. The bird on the branch, the dog in hiskennel, the sheep in the field, the boats moored in the Loire, even,became alive and vocal. The latter, leaving the shore, abandonedthemselves gaily to the current. The Gascon gave a last twirl to hismustache, a last turn to his hair, brushed, from habit, the brim of hishat with the sleeve of his doublet, and went downstairs. Scarcely had hedescended the last step of the threshold when he saw Athos bent downtoward the ground, as if he were looking for a crown-piece in the dust.
"Good-morning, my dear host," cried D'Artagnan.
"Good-day to you; have you slept well?"
"Excellently, Athos, but what are you looking for? You are perhaps atulip fancier?"
"My dear friend, if I am, you must not laugh at me for being so. In thecountry people alter; one gets to like, without knowing it, all thosebeautiful objects that God causes to spring from the earth, which aredespised in cities. I was looking anxiously for some iris roots Iplanted here, close to this reservoir, and which some one has trampledupon this morning. These gardeners are the most careless people in theworld; in bringing the horse out to the water they've allowed him towalk over the border."
D'Artagnan began to smile.
"Ah! you think so, do you?"
And he took his friend along the alley, where a number of tracks likethose which had trampled down the flowerbeds, were visible.
"Here are the horse's hoofs again, it seems, Athos," he said carelessly.
"Yes, indeed, the marks are recent."
"Quite so," replied the lieutenant.
"Who went out this morning?" Athos asked, uneasily. "Has any horse gotloose?"
"Not likely," answered the Gascon; "these marks are regular."
"Where is Raoul?" asked Athos; "how is it that I have not seen him?"
"Hush!" exclaimed D'Artagnan, putting his finger on his lips; and herelated what he had seen, watching Athos all the while.
"Ah, he's gone to Blois; the poor boy----"
"Wherefore?"
"Ah, to inquire after the little La Valliere; she has sprained her foot,you know."
"You think he has?"
"I am sure of it," said Athos; "don't you see that Raoul is in love?"
"Indeed! with whom--with a child seven years old?"
"Dear friend, at Raoul's age the heart is so expansive that it mustencircle one object or another, fancied or real. Well, his love is halfreal, half fanciful. She is the prettiest little creature in the world,with flaxen hair, blue eyes,--at once saucy and languishing."
"But what say you to Raoul's fancy?"
"Nothing--I laugh at Raoul; but this first desire of the heart isimperious. I remember, just at his age, how deep in love I was with aGrecian statue which our good king, then Henry IV., gave my father,insomuch that I was mad with grief when they told me that the story ofPygmalion was nothing but a fable."
"It is mere want of occupation. You do not make Raoul work, so he takeshis own way of employing himself."
"Exactly; therefore I think of sending him away from here."
"You will be wise to do so."
"No doubt of it; but it will break his heart. So long as three or fouryears ago he used to adorn and adore his little idol, whom he will someday fall in love with in right earnest if he remains here. The parentsof little La Valliere have for a long time perceived and been amus
ed atit; now they begin to look concerned."
"Nonsense! However, Raoul must be diverted from this fancy. Send himaway or you will never make a man of him."
"I think I shall send him to Paris."
"So!" thought D'Artagnan, and it seemed to him that the moment forattack had arrived.
"Suppose," he said, "we roughly chalk out a career for this young man. Iwish to consult you about some thing."
"Do so."
"Do you think it is time for us to enter the service?"
"But are you not still in the service--you, D'Artagnan?"
"I mean active service. Our former life, has it still no attractions foryou? would you not be happy to begin anew in my society and in that ofPorthos, the exploits of our youth?"
"Do you propose to me to do so, D'Artagnan?"
"Decidedly and honestly."
"On whose side?" asked Athos, fixing his clear, benevolent glance on thecountenance of the Gascon.
"Ah, devil take it, you speak in earnest----"
"And must have a definite answer. Listen, D'Artagnan. There is but oneperson, or rather, one cause, to whom a man like me can be useful--thatof the king."
"Exactly," answered the musketeer.
"Yes, but let us understand each other," returned Athos, seriously. "Ifby the cause of the king you mean that of Monsieur de Mazarin, we do notunderstand each other."
"I don't say exactly," answered the Gascon, confused.
"Come, D'Artagnan, don't let us play a sidelong game; your hesitation,your evasion, tells me at once on whose side you are; for that party noone dares openly to recruit, and when people recruit for it, it is withaverted eyes and humble voice."
"Ah! my dear Athos!"
"You know that I am not alluding to you; you are the pearl of brave,bold men. I speak of that spiteful and intriguing Italian--of the pedantwho has tried to put on his own head a crown which he stole from under apillow--of the scoundrel who calls his party the party of the king--whowants to send the princes of the blood to prison, not daring to killthem, as our great cardinal--our cardinal did--of the miser, who weighshis gold pieces and keeps the clipped ones for fear, though he is rich,of losing them at play next morning--of the impudent fellow who insultsthe queen, as they say--so much the worse for her--and who is going inthree months to make war upon us, in order that he may retain hispensions; is that the master whom you propose to me? I thank you,D'Artagnan."
"You are more impetuous than you were," returned D'Artagnan. "Age haswarmed, not chilled your blood. Who informed you this was the master Ipropose to you? Devil take it," he muttered to himself, "don't let mebetray my secrets to a man not inclined to entertain them."
"Well, then," said Athos, "what are your schemes? what do you propose?"
"Zounds! nothing more than natural. You live on your estate, happy ingolden mediocrity. Porthos has, perhaps, sixty thousand francs income.Aramis has always fifty duchesses quarreling over the priest, as theyquarreled formerly over the musketeer; but I--what have I in the world?I have worn my cuirass these twenty years, kept down in this inferiorrank, without going forward or backward, hardly half living. In fact, Iam dead. Well! when there is some idea of being resuscitated, you sayhe's a scoundrel, an impudent fellow, a miser, a bad master! By Jove! Iam of your opinion, but find me a better one or give me the means ofliving."
Athos was for a few moments thoughtful.
"Good! D'Artagnan is for Mazarin," he said to himself.
From that moment he grew very guarded.
On his side D'Artagnan became more cautious also.
"You spoke to me," Athos resumed, "of Porthos; have you persuaded him toseek his fortune? But he has wealth, I believe, already."
"Doubtless he has. But such is man, we always want something more thanwe already have."
"What does Porthos wish for?"
"To be a baron."
"Ah, true! I forgot," said Athos, laughing.
"'Tis true!" thought the Gascon, "where has he heard it? Does hecorrespond with Aramis? Ah! if I knew that he did I should know all."
The conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Raoul.
"Is our little neighbor worse?" asked D'Artagnan, seeing a look ofvexation on the face of the youth.
"Ah, sir!" replied Raoul, "her fall is a very serious one, and withoutany ostensible injury, the physician fears she will be lame for life."
"This is terrible," said Athos.
"And what makes me all the more wretched, sir, is, that I was the causeof this misfortune."
"How so?" asked Athos.
"It was to run to meet me that she leaped from that pile of wood."
"There's only one remedy, dear Raoul--that is, to marry her as acompensation." remarked D'Artagnan.
"Ah, sir!" answered Raoul, "you joke about a real misfortune; that iscruel, indeed."
The good understanding between the two friends was not in the leastaltered by the morning's skirmish. They breakfasted with a goodappetite, looking now and then at poor Raoul, who with moist eyes and afull heart, scarcely ate at all.
After breakfast two letters arrived for Athos, who read them withprofound attention, whilst D'Artagnan could not restrain himself fromjumping up several times on seeing him read these epistles, in one ofwhich, there being at the time a very strong light, he perceived thefine writing of Aramis. The other was in a feminine hand, long, andcrossed.
"Come," said D'Artagnan to Raoul, seeing that Athos wished to be alone,"come, let us take a turn in the fencing gallery; that will amuse you."
And they both went into a low room where there were foils, gloves,masks, breastplates, and all the accessories for a fencing match.
In a quarter of an hour Athos joined them and at the same moment Charlesbrought in a letter for D'Artagnan, which a messenger had just desiredmight be instantly delivered.
It was now Athos's turn to take a sly look.
D'Artagnan read the letter with apparent calmness and said, shaking hishead:
"See, dear friend, what it is to belong to the army. Faith, you areindeed right not to return to it. Monsieur de Treville is ill, so mycompany can't do without me; there! my leave is at an end!"
"Do you return to Paris?" asked Athos, quickly.
"Egad! yes; but why don't you come there also?"
Athos colored a little and answered:
"Should I go, I shall be delighted to see you there."
"Halloo, Planchet!" cried the Gascon from the door, "we must set out inten minutes; give the horses some hay."
Then turning to Athos he added:
"I seem to miss something here. I am really sorry to go away withouthaving seen Grimaud."
"Grimaud!" replied Athos. "I'm surprised you have never so much as askedafter him. I have lent him to a friend----"
"Who will understand the signs he makes?" returned D'Artagnan.
"I hope so."
The friends embraced cordially; D'Artagnan pressed Raoul's hand.
"Will you not come with me?" he said; "I shall pass by Blois."
Raoul turned toward Athos, who showed him by a secret sign that he didnot wish him to go.
"No, monsieur," replied the young man; "I will remain with monsieur lecomte."
"Adieu, then, to both, my good friends," said D'Artagnan; "may Godpreserve you! as we used to say when we said good-bye to each other inthe late cardinal's time."
Athos waved his hand, Raoul bowed, and D'Artagnan and Planchet set out.
The count followed them with his eyes, his hands resting on theshoulders of the youth, whose height was almost equal to his own; but assoon as they were out of sight he said:
"Raoul, we set out to-night for Paris."
"Eh?" cried the young man, turning pale.
"You may go and offer your adieux and mine to Madame de Saint-Remy. Ishall wait for you here till seven."
The young man bent low, with an expression of sorrow and gratitudemingled, and retired in order to saddle his horse.
As to D'Artagnan, scarce
ly, on his side, was he out of sight when hedrew from his pocket a letter, which he read over again:
"Return immediately to Paris.--J. M----."
"The epistle is laconic," said D'Artagnan; "and if there had not been apostscript, probably I should not have understood it; but happily thereis a postscript."
And he read that welcome postscript, which made him forget theabruptness of the letter.
"P. S.--Go to the king's treasurer, at Blois; tell him your name andshow him this letter; you will receive two hundred pistoles."
"Assuredly," said D'Artagnan, "I admire this piece of prose. Thecardinal writes better than I thought. Come, Planchet, let us pay avisit to the king's treasurer and then set off."
"Toward Paris, sir?"
"Toward Paris."
And they set out at as hard a canter as their horses could maintain.